From my experience of attending the 2000 reunion in Rabat, nothing has changed. I was on a bus that had been chartered to take the alumni from
the airport to our hotel. The bus driver started to get frustrated with a truck in front of him, so he pulled out to pass, only to discover a much larger truck heading right for us! His natural response was to swing all the way over on the left shoulder and execute the passing maneuver, seemingly oblivious to all the pedestrians who were jumping out of the way! I was sitting in the front seat behind the driver at the time, and I’m not sure if anyone else on the bus even noticed. We were all so excited to be there, but were quite tired from the overnight flight from New York.

Lee Sichter
Alumni – ’64 – ’67
Class of ’69

My twin brother, Larry, and I attended TMW from September 1964 to June 1967 (8th, 9th and 10th grade). We lived in Kenitra and took a Navy bus to school.

I was fortunate enough to attend the reunion in Rabat in 2000, and on the day we visited the base, the bus took the same route along the river, past the prison on the hill, to enter the base.

That brought back a flood of memories. In fact, the entire trip was an experience I shall never forget. As I’ve described to my wife, the first day was a peak experience and each day after that got better!

Like Colene, I reconnected with my classmates on the web, prior to the 1995 reunion in Greensboro, which I also attended. But unlike most of my classmates, I reconnected with my Moroccan friends a bit earlier.

This is a true story: in 1990, my wife and I moved to New York City so that she could complete per post-doctoral internship in pyschology. One night, we were in Greenwich Village and I spotted a Moroccan restaurant. We went in and had dinner. We were the only customers in the place. After dinner, we lingered and chatted with our waiter. He asked me what I thought of Moroccan food and I explained to him that I was very familiar with it having lived in Kenitra. We talked some more, and as we became more comfortable with each other, I told him, “You know, this is will sound really stupid but I’ll say it anyway. My best friend in Morocco was Amine Hajji and I’ve often wondered what happened to him. Do you know him, by chance?”

The waiter paused, smiled and said, “He’s my cousin!” And I said, “Right, I’m from out of town and you’re from New York and you’re telling me you’re related to a guy I went to school with twenty-five years ago!” He laughed and insisted it was true. Amine had gone to college in the United States and settled here. The waiter said he didn’t have his phone number, but told me the City where he lived and where he worked.

The next day, I called the company and within a minute had Amine on the phone! Of course that led to our two families getting together a year later, and then in 2000, I stayed at Amine’s parents home in Rabat after the reunion!

The internet may be the facilitator, but there’s nothing like taking a risk and talking to someone!

Lee Sichter